Thread In The Weave
by Dcorey
Summary: How does a regular person react to the major events that take place in Dragonquest? Follow Tomun as he crosses the path (occasionally) with the major characters in Pern. Thank you Anne for giving us such a rich, wonderful world and for allowing us to play in your sandbox. May your passage /between/ be filled with peace.
1. Chapter 1

2015 4.4.8 Bitra, Spring morning

"Up boy!" Tahon, cot holder of Fallen Cliff Hold, called up the steep stairs. "Herdbeasts need milkin'."

In the small loft room underneath the flat eaves, the black and white herding canine, who had been curled up on the foot of the narrow cot, jumped down in a clatter of nails. A cold nose burrowed beneath the sleeping furs and a wet tongue flicked out.

"G'way." was the response, but it was enough to send the canine clambering down the steep stairs to the room below. The young man, fourteen turns last summer, groaned and pulled the furs up over his ears. Not that he could go back to sleep. He was one of those that once he awoke, he was awake, but the dream, even as it was fading, was vivid enough to cause him to linger.

His dream had taken place high in summer sky. The wind was a cool breeze that countered the warmth of the sun. Clouds could be seen, bursts of white against the green-blue sky, but closer were the tops of snow clad mountains while the land below was filled with towering bluish trees as far as the eye could see. Beneath him, unseen in the way of dreams, was a dragon. He – whether bronze, brown, or blue, for color didn't matter in Tomun's dreams - carried him across the sky, from place to place in a blink of the eye. The dragon banked sharply and Tomun had yelled in delight, fists in the air, trusting completely in his lifemate.

Lifemate. Tomun opened his eyes and shrugged the furs back. He had never dreamed of being anything other than a dragonrider. He never considered another path although his parents continually offered suggestions like carrying on the duties of cot holder, or more halfheartedly, an apprentice of some sort, but Tomun's unwavering belief could not be shaken.

He would be a dragonrider of Pern.

Tahon and Marnia, Tomun's parents, had no love for the riders of Benden. If pressed, they would admit that without the courage of the current Weyrleaders, all of Pern would have been decimated when Thread returned after that very long interval. That first turn of the current Pass had shattered hopes and dreams of a Thread free future. But the last eight turns hadn't been easy. One disaster after another had taken their toll. First cotholder Tahon had been forced to abandon the original farmhold, one that had been in his family for five generations, when Thread had burrowed during the very first Fall over Bitra. The borrows had left the fields barren for turns to come. Five turns later, a winter illness had taken their oldest son and two younger daughters. Two turns ago a blight had destroyed the spring planting, and this winter, tunnel snakes had devoured the carefully harvested seed, causing them to petition Bitra Hold in order to do this turn's planting.

Then there there was the matter of the dragons themselves. Benden Weyr had more queens, and more dragons, than nearly any other Weyr in Pern. Not only did Lord Sifra of Bitra require a full half of all herdbeasts under the age of one turn every six months, but with so many dragons flying overhead the herdbeasts were always a bit underweight. Dragonlengths of fencing had to be repaired and fixed constantly from the herd bolting every time a dragon flew too low overhead. Not to mention Tomun's obsession with the dragon's themselves.

No, Tahon and Marnia had little love for the Benden riders or their dragons.

"Get your head out of the clouds Tomun," his da told him, at least twice a day. "I need you here, mending that fence," or "Planting the tubers," or "Fixing the shutters on the Thread shelter in the north field," or "Weeding the garden for your Ma." And Tomun would pull his thoughts from the clouds, for a little while at least, and do his chores. And he always did them well. He had a strong sense of what was right and what was wrong and helping around the small hold was always right. Perhaps his tuber rows were a little less straight than they could have been, or maybe the shutters hung a bit off plumb, but the job was always done and always done well enough so that there was no need of redoing. Because redoing meant the job was done 'wrong' and 'wrong' wasn't acceptable.

Winters in their small valley hold, located just north of where Benden Weyr road intersected Bitra Hold road, were long, cold and lonely. The proceeding winter had been especially brutal. Heavy wet snows and days upon days of icy sleet had delayed spring by several weeks. When spring did arrive, there had been much work to do. Fences that needed to be repaired, roofing tiles gone missing from the main hold's roof and the Thread Shelter that they were responsible for maintaining. The well had been compromised and needed to be cleaned out and the fields prepared and planted. Rising at sunrise and working until Rukbat set still saw them mending harnesses and tools by glow light late into the night.

"Tahon," his ma was saying as a still tousled haired Tomun came down the stairs. " Is there time to go to the Hold before the next Fall?" Her hair was more gray than brown, and pulled back into a neat bun and fixed with two crossed hair picks. She wore a clean apron over her every day blue serge work dress although she would change into her husband's cast off tunic and trous if her work took her out into the fields. She looked worn and older than her turns from the heartache of loosing so many children, but there was a kindness in her brown eyes that time would never erase. "We're out of almost everything." She gestured toward the small table near the hearth where there was half a loaf of bread, and the last small crock of berry jam. A small hoop of creamy white cheese, smaller by more than half after the green had been carved off, was also on the table. "There's enough tubers and dried fish..."

Tomun, who was stamping his feet into his worn boots, wrinkled his nose. They had eaten more than their fair share of dried fish stew over the long winter. It filled his stomach but that was all it did.

"For one last kettle than that will be gone too." Her mouth was set, her brow knitted with worry yet, at the look at her husband's face, she added, "It was farsighted of you to do all that fishing else we would have gone hungry long before now."

Tomun's da sat on the small bench by the door, his heavy work boots on the floor next to him. He was dressed in clean, but worn, tunic and trous, all neatly patched. His face, long and spare, was tanned and lined from being outdoors. The small lines on his forehead relaxed a little with her compliment, left sided though it might have been. Despite all the disasters, they still had a deep respect and love for each other. Sometimes it seemed the only thing that they did have bounty of.

"May be. Last Fall was two days ago. Shouldn't have another for a sevenday." He started to pull on his boots. "Go ahead then, and make your list Marnia, but keep it spare. Won't know how much, or what, Lord Holder Sifer will have on hand. Spring tithe to the Weyr was two sevenday ago you know." What hung in the air, heavy and gray, was what he didn't say. The cothold had few marks to spare, and they would be lucky if they could buy enough to last until the spring garden started producing.

"It's not his Lordship that we need to worry about but that steward of his." Marnia sniffed.

"Marnia."

"I know, I know. Still, last time he cheated us right and good, no matter that we can't prove it. Those bags were NOT underweight. . . !"

"Tomun," Tahon interrupted, trying to change the subject. Marnia was a quite one, except when it came to defending her family and their honor. Wild runners couldn't stop her when her temper rose. "I'll see to the herdbeasts if you'll feed and water the runners. Harness them to the small wagon." He finished pulling his boots on and stood up to settle them on his feet. "When you get that done, we'll turn the herdbeasts out in the eastern pasture. There should be enough new growth for grazing until we get back."

"Yes da," Tomun said, his eyes lighting up a little at the anticipated change in their daily routine. Still, as eager as he was to travel to the Hold, he was hungry and he couldn't help but look longingly at the little food set out on the table.

Marnia waved him on, already reaching for a clean strip of cloth which she laid across the table. "I'll pack some for all of us. We can break our fast once we're on the road to Bitra Hold." The tone of her voice now had a lilt of excitement to it despite her earlier out burst. She had family at the main Hold, a sister and two brothers. It was over a half a Turn since their last visit and she had the twins, born over the long winter, that she looked forward to showing off. As she sliced bread and cheese, and wrapped it all up, she started to compile the mental list of what they would need to get them through the double handful of sevendays. She had already planted greens, legumes, orange and white root, tubers and herbs, both seasoning and medicinal, but due to the late spring, even the fastest growing plant had another six sevendays before they could be harvested. She might be able to find some wild cress, early berries and if she was very lucky, some missed nuts from last fall, but not nearly enough. As it was, she was rail thin from trying to keep the twins fed.

In no time, chores were done and everyone was in the wagon. Tahon, Marnia and little Lennsa on the front seat with Tomun in the back, Bernessa in one arm and a hunk of sharp cheese in the other. With his legs swinging over the edge, and Bernessa dozing, he munched happily on his food, excited about the trip to the Hold. It was still a bit cool even though Rukbat shone brightly overhead and Bernessa was wrapped warmly which helped keep him warm as well. Spring in the mountains, especially early in the day, was often cool until mid-summer. He had heard his ma and da tell stories about how further south it would get so hot in the middle of the day that people felt like they were walking through water. They even took naps in the middle of the day and did the hardest work early in the morning and later in the evening. That was something he just couldn't imagine; taking naps like a youngling in the middle of the day! He shook his head. People sure did odd things.

Tomun's mind wandered as the team of runners plodded along the narrow track that led from the hold to Bitra road. Da had taught him his numbers for even a cot holder, da said, needed to know how many marks equaled a herdbeast or a bushel of grain. Ma had taught him his letters. She knew the basic teaching songs, but as she said laughingly, she couldn't hold a tune if it was in a stout barrel, so she didn't sing much. She would thump out the beat on the table top while he recited the words. But it was the songs about Pern's dragonriders that came to mind more often then not. Those he had learned from Journeyman Harper Pillan. Pillan was stationed at Bitra Hold. Tomun's family had wintered there twice when he was younger. One of those times was when his brother and two younger sisters had caught the fever and died. His parents had decided never to winter again in the main Hold. That meant the only contact they had with a harper was when Pillan made his once a turn trips to the surrounding cot holds.

Pillan knew about his family's feelings towards the dragonriders, and though he didn't understand them, he did respect them so he mainly focused on the learning songs, or small ditties that focused on holders. But, he was a sly harper, and he always managed to catch Tomun when he was alone, either tending to the livestock or doing his other chores in the warmth of the barn. It was then that the gray haired, long-faced harper sang the Teaching Songs about the Dragonriders. Tomun quickly memorized Moreta's Ballad and the Question Song with it's odd tuning but the saga of Lessa's Ride would always be his favorite. Quietly, he mouthed the words:

"Black, blacker, blackest,

And cold beyond frozen things,

Where is between when there is naught

To life but fragile dragon wings?

Cold as death, death-bearing,

Stay and die, unguided.

Brave and braving, linger.

This way was twice decided."

It was the next stanza, that called to him, that made his heart sing with hope and dreams and dragon wings.

"Who wills,

Can.

Who tries,

Does.

Who loves,

Lives."

2015 4.4.8 Bitra, Spring mid-morning, early afternoon

By mid-morning the rough track transitioned to the hard flagstones that lined the main section of the road leading to Bitra Hold. The sound of the runner's hooves changed, clopping instead of thumping. That sound meant they were getting close. Ma had taken Bernessa long ago, and now Tomun made his way toward the front of the wagon so he could see ahead of them instead of behind. Kneeling between the few barrels and bags of goods gathered for trading at the Hold, he held onto the inside edge of the wagon bed and the back of the seat to keep his balance. Finally the road started up a slight incline and the first of several guard stations, a one room stone cot, came into view. A sleek runner was tied the hitching post off to one side of the cot. The bay's eyes were half closed, his lower lip loose, as he dozed in the spring sunshine. His ears flickered a bit as Da pulled their runners to a halt but beyond a flick of his tail, he ignored the visitors.

A short, barrel chested man swaggered out of the cot. He had dark, unruly hair and was dressed in the Hold colors, dark red with white piping, and Bitra's device, a dusty red field with four white eight pointed stars, on his chest. A sword hung at his right side, and stout club on his left. He approached the wagon, and addressed Tahon, asking their names and their reason for coming to the Hold. Tomun tuned out the conversation, more interested in looking at his surroundings. The area directly around the cot for nearly a dragons length, was green free and covered in stones. The trees across the road grew so much larger then they did closer to their own hold, and the underbrush was carefully trimmed so that any Thread that got through Benden's wings would be hard pressed to get a hold. After a few minutes, a jerk brought his attention back just in time to see the guard step back, one hand raised, waving them forward as his da slapped the reins against the back of the runners and clucked them forward.

It was almost noon when the Hold proper came into view but they stopped well before reaching the main courtyard. Tahon brought the runner team to a halt in front of a small stone cothold. Across the lane was the Hold's Weaver Cot, where Marnia's sister, Lulana, was a journeywoman. Tomun jumped down at his da's direction to see to the runners just as two of Lulana's children came running up.

"You're just in time!" Cawlia screeched, loud enough so that both babies started to cry. "They're here! They're here!" She was a scrawny ten turns old, barely tall enough to see over the wheels of the wagon. Her sister, Nella, was almost eight, and the exact opposite of her older sister. Where Cawlia was thin, she was plump, where Cawlia was loud and excited, she was quiet and calm.

"Who's here? And stop screaming, you've woken the babies." Tomun growled, shifting his feet and straightening his shoulders so he would look much older than his 14 turns. On the wagon seat, Marnia hid her smile despite the fact that she was rocking each twin frantically, trying to bring their startled cries down to a manageable level.

"The dragons!"

Luckily Cawlia's words came after Tomun had tied the runners to the hitch. "Dragons?" His heart started to pound and it was suddenly hard to think. "Dragons are here? In the Hold? But why. . .?" His eyes went to the sky, instinctively searching the eastern sky for Thread's gray cast.

"It's a blue, the color of berries! And the prettiest green you've ever seen." Cawlia leaned toward him and lowered her voice in to a loud stage whisper. Tomun had always thought she'd make a great harper; she had a flare for the dramatic. "There are eggs on the Hatching grounds," her eyes grew large. She knew very well the effect her next words would have on her seldom seen cousin. She knew his not-so-secret dream. "And they're here." She paused, eyes dancing with mischief. "On Search!"

Cawlia's words reached Marnia's ears, despite the twin's dwindling sobs. Eyes wide, she turned toward Tomun. "Tahon! Did you hear? Cawlia just told Tomun there are dragons here...on Search!"

"Shards and shells!" Tahon said, climbing down from the wagon's seat. His eyes were focused on Tomun's stiff form, just visible beyond the back of the runners.

"Hurry!" Marnia demanded. With a mother's instinctive knowledge, she knew that something was about to happen. Something that was inevitable but not the outcome she and Tahon wanted. The twins picked up on the tone in Marnia's voice and their crying went up a notch. "Before he does something rash. . .TOMUN!"

But it was too late. He was already out of sight.


	2. Chapter 2

Tomun could just see a glimpse of a dragon's head over the top of the cots. He used those visuals to home in on their location. He caused a bit of a commotion running through the narrow streets. He darted around groups of people, dodged around a cart filled with dung, wove through stands holding drying pottery, and ducked under lines hung with wet clothes drying in the sun. Then he finally found himself reaching the final line of cots at the edge of the main courtyard. Reaching out to catch the corner of the building, he used his momentum to swing around the cot, coming to a stop so suddenly, he barely kept to his feet. But there, right there, on the other side of courtyard ,were the two dragons.

Two dragons. One green and one blue. Both of them sat on their haunches facing the Hold proper. The blue had his tail curled around his hindquarters, his neck up, wedge shaped head swiveling side to side as if looking for something. The green, although nearly the same size as the blue (which one was small and which one was large, he wasn't sure, the harper's teachings hadn't gone into that much detail) had her neck arched, her head out of sight. Both had their wings folded tightly against their sides, but he could see the folds of the leather-like membranes that kept them aloft when they flew. Along their spines, he could see curved ridges and just the smallest strip of brown that seemed to go down their sides. Rider's straps, he guessed, his eyes drinking in the details. And they were huge! Much, much bigger than he had ever imagined. Of course the only time he had ever laid eyes on a dragon was when they flew overhead. Then they seemed small, even manageable, like one of the oversized runners used for hauling the big freight carts. But these were NOT runners.

Just then the green shifted, swung her head around, and her multi-faceted eyes seemed to be looking at him! His breath caught in his throat. Their eyes were so odd looking, and yet so beautiful! It was as if he could see himself reflected in each facet. Her eyes seemed to whirl and the motion made him feel dizzy but he couldn't look away. He continued to stare for a long moment until movement near the dragon's forelegs caught his attention. There was a man, the green's rider he realized, in brown leather, pointing in his direction.

"That one Beldeth? The one by the corner of the cot?" K'nalt asked, one hand going up to smooth down the long blonde locks at the top of his head. He kept the sides and back short; no one wanted long hair that might get escape from the tight leather cap during Fall, but he was vane enough to allow some sense of fashion. It was the same for the tunic he wore under his flying leathers. Lengths of rick rack trim and dyed threads added a unique style to his clothing.

_Yes._ Beldeth answered promptly, but then she hesitated. _He is ..interesting._

K'nalt glanced up at the dragon before returning his gaze back to the young lad staring egg-struck across the courtyard. "What does Nath say?" He was a talkative sort, and preferred to speak to Beldeth out loud, treating her as he would any other person. He was well used to ignoring the sideways looks he was getting from some of the nearby holders who could only hear one side of the conversation.

_He focuses on the girls. He does not hear the boys._

The green's rider chuckled at the disgust in the green's tone. "Still mad at him for flying Letith yesterday aren't you? But that's his loss, you know. You are twice the dragon Letith is." Beldeth normally forgot slights, hurts and any other negative feelings very quickly. This one, though, seemed to linger longer than it should. Well, the good thing about any dragon was how quickly they could forget if they wanted to forget. It would have been better if they had been partnered with one of the other blue dragon for today's Search, but when a Wingleader gives an order, one didn't countermand them. To change the subject, he raised his arm and beckoned the lad over. "Let's see what he's got shall we? You! By the cot! Yes you, come here where Beldeth can see you better."

Before Tomun could follow the dragonrider's directive, he sensed someone had come up beside him. had followed him. "You are soooo in trouble!" Cawlia sang. "Your Da is going to tan your hide!"

"Not if I'm not here. . ." He frowned down at her, tempted to say something mean to take the smirk off of her face, but right is right and wrong is wrong, he reminded himself, and she did tell him about the dragons. Instead he leaned down and said quietly in her ear, "You'll make a good harper someday." He then turned and jogged across the courtyard toward the dragon and her rider. He never saw the hope that flared in her eyes.

"So, lad, what's your name?" K'nalt asked, when Tomun had crossed the courtyard and stopped in front of him. Hands on belt, the greenrider tilted his head to one side, taking the lad's measure. He tried to keep his expression stern, but there was too much good will in K'nalt's personality to keep up the charade. Besides, the lad was brave enough to come right up to him even though he was standing close to Beldeth. The majority of the lot that the journeyman harper brought out – what was his name? Palo? Pillin? something along those lines - were still cowering in the shadows. One of the girls had even fainted when G'nalt's blue Nath had bent his head for a closer look.

"Tomun sir, I mean, Greenrider, sir." Tomun managed to say, stammering quite a bit despite his eagerness. The dragon was HUGE! And to think this was only the smallest of the dragons. He couldn't even imagine how big the Weyrleaders' dragons were! He knew from the teaching songs that dragon's would never hurt anyone but he was unable to ignore the the dragon's size and the thought of what could happen. What if, by accident, she stepped on him! Still his eyes drank in everything he could, storing details to memory knowing he may never get this close again. He noticed how smooth and soft her hide looked and the how the word 'green' didn't even come close to describing her color. And her eyes! How could he ever describe her eyes? They whirled and moved and seemed to be watching everything and nothing all at the same time? She was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

_He thinks I am beautiful. _ Beldeth preened, arching her neck and leaning forward so she could bring her head down closer to her rider and the boy. Her nostrils flared as she breathed but Tomun barely flinched as the warm raw meat scent washed over him. _Yes. He will do. He will do quite well. _She announced.

K'nalt grinned. "Well Tomun. Have you ever thought about being Searched? Now no promises, hear." He added as he saw the boy's eyes light up. "Just because you've been Searched doesn't mean you'll Impress. Why I..." His voice trailed off as he realized that they had been joined by a man, a cot holder from the device on his shoulder, and the boy's father if he had to guess. A guess that he would have been willing to put marks on, even here in Bitra where everyone knew the odds were thrown. Besides, both boy and man had what his foster mother used to call an "I want" line between the eyes.

"Greenrider." The man said, his posture stiff and defensive, his eyes cold.

"Da! I've been Searched! That means. . "

"I know what it means. And the answer is no."

"But Da...!"

"Tomun, you are not going to the Weyr and that's final."

"What's going on here?" A voice demanded as two more men arrived. Both wore more elaborate clothing, the device of Lord Holder and Hold Steward clearly visible.

"My Lord Sifer and Steward Hangard." Tahon said, bowing in deference. "This man. . . "

"Greenrider K'nalt, Lord Sifer, rider of Beldeth, Benden Weyr. I, and G'lat, rider of Nath," the dragonrider gestured toward another man that was just coming to join them. "Have come on Search as I'm sure your steward here has informed you."

"Yes, yes. I know why you're here. I want to know what all the commotion is. People running through the Hold is not a normal occurrence you know."

Tomun flushed but it was his da that answered. "My apologies, my Lord," Tahon said. "But this man, this - this dragonrider tried to steal my son away."

"Da!"

G'lat stepped forward, his eyes narrowed. "How dare you insult a Benden. . .!"

"I would never. . .!" Added K'nalt.

"SILENCE!" Lord Sifer glared at riders, cot holder and boy equally. "Cotholder. . ." he said and paused, searching his memory for the man's name.

The man standing to the left and just behind the Lord Holder, leaned forward, the back of his right hand in front of his mouth and said quietly, "Tahon, Fallen Cliff Hold."

"Yes, thank you. Tahon, these riders have come on Search. . ."

"He's too young to be Searched, my Lord." Marnia said, coming up to the join the quickly growing group. It had taken her a few minutes to find her sister to watch the twins and then her skirts had hampered her stride through the Hold. Standing at her husband's side, she swallowed her fear the best she could, but could barely keep from shuddering. The dragon's were terrifying!

"To young? How old are you boy?" Lord Sifer demanded, his glare switching to impatience when the boy hesitated. "Well? Speak up!"

"Um. Fourteen turns last summer. Um. My Lord."

"Well then, that settles that." Lord Sifer leaned back and nodded as if, indeed, all had been solved.

Tomun was confused. What had been settled? His da and ma looked relieved, the dragonriders looked satisfied and the Steward wore a disturbing expression.

"Lord Sifer, now that Tomun will be going home with us," Tahon said. "We would like to talk to you about. . ."

"What! No Da!"

"See here holder Tahon!" K'nalt snapped. Though usually mild mannered, the greenrider had had enough of this.

The blue rider, G'lat, crossed his arms and scowled causing Marnia to feel very uncomfortable. She moved closer to her husband; she needed the comfort of his presence. The dragonrider had severe facial scarring from a long healed Thread score. She thought he looked more dangerous than the Holdless they had heard about. And her son wanted to go with them? She couldn't understand it.

"Tahon! Settled means the boy is old enough to make his own decisions. Unless, of course, you've already arranged a betrothal for him. Have you?" Lord Sifer raised an eyebrow in question.

"No but. . ."

"Well then. Tomun of Fallen Cliff Hold, what say you? Do you accept being Searched or do you want to go home with your parents?"

"Sir? Yes sir! I mean yes Lord Holder. I want to go to the Weyr and become a dragonrider!"

"A chance only lad, a chance only." K'nalt said gently, his former good nature returning as quickly as it had left. "You do know that not everyone who is Searched is chosen? The hatchlings choose whom they want, and nothing we do, or say, can change that. I, myself, stood four times before my beautiful Beldeth was hatched. It was to be my last too. I couldn't have taken being left standing one more time." He winked at Tomun and added in a loud whisper, " I think she knew that too!" Beldeth snorted, making it clear what she thought of her rider's nonsense. The noise made everyone jump except the two dragonriders.

"And what happens if he doesn't Impress?" Marnia asked, her arms crossed, hands rubbing up and down as if she was cold. She threw a nervous glance up at the dragon, another at the blue rider, than focused on the green rider. At least he looked kind.

"That's up to him. If he has skills that are needed at the Weyr, he can stay and stand at the next hatching – and as we have three queen dragons currently, there are quite a few of them." K'nalt grinned. "If he has no skills, then he can return here...or his own hold, whichever he prefers." He eyed Marnia closely, reading her body language. He realized that some of their fear was of the unknown, and what the Weyr might do to their boy. He suspected, though, there was more to it than that since the boy himself had no fear. But then again, most boys lacked enough sense to fear what they should. He certainly had fallen in to that category. "I will make you a promise. If it's all possible, I will return him myself if that's his wish." A sideways glance at the boy and he knew that the boy probably wouldn't wish it, but the future could not be predicted, at least not by him.

_I should hope not! _

"Quiet you!" K'nalt replied aloud. Seeing the confusion in the holders' eyes, he turned his head up to address the green dragon. "Did I ask for your comment?" Then, returning his attention to the boy's mother said, "Will that satisfy you enough to let him go to the Weyr unhindered?"

Tahon cleared his throat. "There's another problem. We have two babes and no one else to help with the work of running the hold. Son," he said, turning to Tomun who look stricken with guilt. "We need you."

"Lord Sifer, if I might. . ." Steward Hangard stepped forward.

"Yes, yes. Go ahead. I'm sure you've got something up your sleeve." Lord Sifer grumbled, waving him on.

"We've several young couples that have expressed interest in holding, but they have no where to go. Settling them with an established holder would solve many...issues."

Tahon frowned. "Trouble are they?" He asked, picking up on what wasn't being said.

Steward Hangard shrugged. "Nothing that hard work wouldn't resolve. And because you'd be helping us with a … situation, we might be able to come to terms on other compensation."

Tahon was still for a moment, then nodded in consideration. "Compensation would definitely be warranted."

"But Tahon...!" Marnia added, moving closer to put her hand lightly on her spouse's arm.

"The decision has been made Marnia," he answered, putting a hand over hers and squeezing gently. "I don't understand why he wants to become a dragonrider," he shook his head sadly. "But if we don't let him try, he'll resent us for denying him the chance. Besides, I doubt very much that he will Impress a dragon so more than likely, he'll be back with us before the summer's over. Won't you lad?"

Tomun looked at all the faces around him, unable to find the words to express his resolution NOT to return to the hold, but unable to hurt his parent's feelings.

K'nalt, who was well versed in reading expressions, realized what the boy was feeling and jumped in with, "Good, good! With that resolved, do you have any belonging you need to gather up before we leave for the Weyr? No? Well I'm not sure you're dressed warm enough for /between/. Lord Sifer, if your steward would be good enough to allow us to borrow a warmer jacket for the lad, I'll make sure to have it returned promptly."

Steward Hangard waited for his Lord to nod, than snapped his fingers. A young man, a few turns older than Tomun, had been hovering near by. At the Steward's signal, he bounded off toward the stairs that led into the Hold proper.

"Hangard, after you take care of business with these holders, I expect to see you in my study. We've that other … business to see to. Riders, since it's past mid-day I'm sure you've other places to be. Good day to you then." Lord Sifer tugged at the hem of his over tunic, nodded vaguely, and strode purposefully away.

"No offer of wine then?" G'lat growled under his breath. K'nalt was close enough that he pushed his elbow sharply into the blue rider's side to remind him of his manners. G'lat had never learned to mind his tongue and N'ton had often had to discipline him because of it. Still Lord Sifer's implication that they had out stayed their welcome wasn't lost on K'nalt either. He just chose to ignore it.

"How did Nath's Search go?" K'nalt asked, keeping an eye on the lad as he said his goodbyes to his parents. His mother, like mother's everywhere, pulled him close. The lad's father was stiffer, and was casting a warning eye on K'nalt. The greenrider only smiled and ignored what some would surely consider an insult. Commoners just didn't understand the Weyr's casual acceptance of sexuality. The holder probably thought that Beldeth had only searched his son as a bedmate for her rider. Not that the lad didn't have a nice look to him, but he was a bit young and more than likely would not take to that role easily. Some did, once they had a taste of dragonlust, while others only accepted the inevitable when they realized that there was no shame in the act.

"One. The big boned brunette. There," G'lat gestured with his chin. "Shrugging into her winter coat." The girl in question seemed quite comfortable with the prospect of flying off on dragon back and leaving everything behind her. No tears, ample determination and a sensible hide carryall slung across her back. "Nath thought she was likely, although I'm not as sure as he is but I've been wrong before. And so has he. At least she's willing to take the chance. Any besides him?" He asked his eyes flickering in Tomun's direction.

K'nalt opened his mouth but before he could speak, his eyes went out of focus for a moment. He blinked and the corners of his mouth turned up in a smile. "I thought not, but seems as if someone has changed her mind."

"Oh?" G'lat inquired and followed K'nalt's gaze. Coming toward them at a brisk trot was the young man that had been sent by the steward to fetch a coat for Tomun. "Ah. Yes." He nodded briskly. "I need to see to my candidate while you see to yours. I'll meet you back at the Weyr and we can see where N'ton wants us to go next." He turned and walked away just as the errand runner reached them.

"Greenrider? Here's the jacket you requested." The boy said, holding out the worn, but serviceable wher-hide to Tomun. He was a little out of breathe from his run up, and then back down, the steep stairs that led up into the Hold proper but he couldn't stop looking at Beldeth.

_He thinks I am beautiful._

K'nalt chuckled. That, he knew, was Beldeth's criteria for Search; being admired.

"My thanks. . .?"

"Marin, Greenrider. Do you need anything else?"

"How old are you Marin?"

"Me?" Marin touched his thumb to his chest, his expression echoing his surprise at the question. "I'll have nineteen turns mid-summer."

"Have you ever thought about becoming a candidate? Ramoth's clutch has over thirty-five eggs. We're going to need a lot of young men to give the hatchlings a good choice."

"Me?" Marin gulped, his eyes going wide. "Searched?"

With a huge grin, K'nalt confirmed: "Yes, you. You're joining Tomun here so ay your goodbyes, if you have any to say, and pack up your personal possessions." He leaned back against Beldeth's foreleg, enjoying the look of wonder on Marin's face. "Beldeth looks forward to taking you both to Benden Weyr."


End file.
